One For Sorrow
by Kari Kurofai
Summary: Follow up to Two For Joy. Ivan just wants to be left alone, but that's never the way that it is, with a persistant Gilbert always trying to look out for him. AU Russia/Prussia Ivan/Gilbert, implied Francis/Arthur and Alfred/Kiku


**One For Sorrow**

Gilbert leaned against the windowpane, staring out at the snow that drifted gently down just outside the glass. The glass itself was cold to the touch, but the silver haired man traced his fingers along it's frosted edges anyways, sighing and fogging up the glass with his breath. He twisted his finger across the clear surface, drawing a smiley face lazily in the mist he'd created.

He wasn't entirely sure how he'd ended up in the situation he was in now. One minute, he'd been enjoying Francis's Christmas party just like he did every year. The next . . . Swirling his finger through the fog on the glass again, he turned the smiley face into a frown. He could still hear the party going on outside the room he was in now, and it made him stop a moment just to listen in. There was Arthur's angry yelling over Francis's mocking laughter. And Feliciano's whining voice as Ludwig kept him from eating all of the cookies. Alfred was laughing uproariously and Kiku could be heard somewhere close to him trying to calm him down in a reasonable manner.

The silver haired man smirked to himself as he turned away from the window. Half of him wished he could go out there and join them. But the other half knew that he'd come into this room for a reason. And he had to do what he'd come here to do.

Another young man lay on the bed on the opposite end of the room, he couldn't be more than nineteen, the same age as Gilbert himself. His hand lay palm up over his lavender eyes, some of his ash-blond hair trailing over his fingertips. He didn't look up as Gilbert sat down on the end of the bed.

"You're kind of depressing," Gilbert remarked as he eased himself onto the bed. "And it took me forever to find you, you know. Alfred said you were here, so I had no choice but to look." He smiled slightly, "You really hate parties, don't you."

"No," the other muttered after a moment of silence, "I like them just fine. They only suck when everyone else is happy when you yourself feel like crap." "No one said you couldn't be happy too," Gilbert replied smoothly.

"And no one said that you had to be my babysitter all the time," came the retort.

"True," Gilbert admitted, "But when I see you moping around in a room all by yourself, then I kind of have to step in, Ivan." He reached out and pushed the hand away from the other's eyes, "Is it because Francis invited Yao? Because you guys aren't together anymore?" Ivan hissed through his teeth in annoyance, "I told you I don't need a babysitter!" Gilbert merely rolled his eyes, "Yes, I know. But I'm good for hugs, so I've been told."

The taller man made a face, "No way. Hasn't anyone ever told you that I hate being touched?" As if to emphasize this point, he jerked his hand out of Gilbert's grip and covered his eyes again.

The crimson eyes teen smirked, "But I know for a fact that you let both your sisters touch you, and Alfred and Yao-"

"Shut up!"

Gilbert's slight smile fell, "Fine then, be that way." He stood up and approached the window again. The marks he'd put there earlier had already faded away, and he breathed on the glass again, prepared to make it again just for fun.

"Gilbert . . ." Ivan's voice jerked him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah," the other answered, not turning around. He'd wait for Ivan to speak, he didn't want to risk getting yelled at again for crossing the line. After all, it might only be a matter of time before he provoked the other into snapping to a level above yelling, and he didn't want that.

"Gilbert," Ivan repeated, fingers clenching into the soft fabric of the blankets covering the bed. "I'm sorry . . ."

The other smiled again as he sat down on the bed closer to Ivan this time, "Don't worry about it." He moved the taller man's hand away from his eyes again, "So . . . Do you want to talk about it?" "About what?"

"About Yao, silly," Gilbert teased, "it's better if you talk about it. I'm sure Alfred's told you that before." "And I didn't talk about it with him either," Ivan snorted. "Things like that are useless to talk about when their over and done with."

Gilbert sighed and looked away, "Right, that's one _opinion_. But sometimes it doesn't truly end until it's been talked about. If you just keep it bottled up inside, you might explode," he nodded, trying to keep a serious face.

Ivan raised an eyebrow, "Uh huh, nice try." He was silent a moment before he opened his mouth, "I broke it off, you know. Not the other way around like everyone seems to think. It was better that way, because I didn't want to be the one that got hurt in the end. He was bored with me, I could tell. That's why I did it. It wasn't . . . It wasn't supposed to hurt . . ."

The albino man remained silent a bit longer, reaching out to run his fingers gently through Ivan's hair. "Letting someone go for their own good is never easy, I know. I've done it too. But . . . If you really love them, then their happiness means more to you than your own. Right?"

The Russian sighed, sitting up a bit so that he could look Gilbert in the eyes, "Da . . . And what would you know about that."

The shorter man laughed, "I've loved people before, Ivan. I loved Elizaveta for years, even though I knew she liked that bastard Roderich." He shrugged, "And then theirs you. I like you quite a bit, Ivan."

Ivan narrowed his lavender eyes, "It's mean to lie to people like that."

"I'm not lying," Gilbert smiled, "Not at all." He leaned over a bit, kissing Ivan lightly and smirking as the other didn't attempt to pull away. Laughing, he pulled away just as quick, "Jeeze, you don't have to look so freaked out you know. Do you hate me that much?"

Ivan ran a hand through his hair, uncertainty in his eyes, "No . . . I don't hate you. It's just . . . Surprising." He turned away slightly, "blyat . . ."

Gilbert raised an eyebrow, "You don't hate me, but it's fine to curse in Russian at me? I don't get it."

"I wasn't cursing at _you_," Ivan retorted immediately. "I was cursing at myself. If I wanted to curse at you, I would do so in English." He rolled his eyes, as if simply talking to Gilbert was a nuisance at the moment. Sighing, he rested his elbows on his knees, looking at the other with vague interest. After another, almost awkward moment of silence, he said quietly, "I really don't think you want to be involved with me, Gilbert."

"What I want isn't your decision really," Gilbert smirked in reply.

"It is," Ivan said slowly. "If you don't want to get hurt, then it's better just to stay away. And I'm not talking about hurt in the heart, like before." His mouth quirked into a dark smile, "I'm not as nice as I act."

"I know," Gilbert said with the same slowness. "And neither am I." His breath escaped him as Ivan turned suddenly, raising to his knees and pushing him backwards across the bed. The taller man leaned over him, kissing him harshly, hands roaming over the edges of Gilbert's white button up shirt until he found an opening, slipping his hand inside. The albino hissed in slight surprise as the hands trailed over his stomach and up to his chest, pressing against his nipples. "You have _seriously_ cold hands!" he gasped out, sucking in a shaky breath as Ivan's fingers undid the buttons on his shirt.

Ivan laughed, "Da, sorry about that." He bent his head as he tossed the shirt aside, rolling his tongue over Gilbert's right nip, nibbling on it after a moment's pause. To his surprise, instead of pulling away, Gilbert arched up into his touch.

"Tch . . . Bite it harder," he murmured near Ivan's ear. He hissed through his teeth as Ivan complied readily, arms tangling around the other's neck. Gilbert buried his face against Ivan's shoulder as the other nipple received the same rough treatment. He looked up as Ivan suddenly leaned back, the Russian's hands moving down to the German's belt. "Hey, no," Gilbert snapped, "your shirt comes off first. I hate that shit where only one guy gets naked."

The taller man chuckled slightly, sitting up on his knees to tug his shirt off, being careful not to pull off his scarf. Gilbert leaned up on his elbows, reaching out to trail his fingers over the ends of the scarf, "This too," he whispered.

Ivan hesitated, feeling the fingers slip between the fabric of the scarf and his neck, but he surprisingly didn't resist when Gilbert undid the article, letting it slide to the floor. After a moment of eye contact, he pushed the other back down again, moving his hands over the top of the albino's pants, "Last chance to run away," he murmured, unhooking the belt with ease.

Gilbert merely laughed softly, raising his hips so that Ivan could remove his pants and boxers in the same motion, "No thanks. I told you that I like you, right? I'm too awesome to go back on something like that." He bit his lip as Ivan's finger penetrated him, but didn't say anything about it otherwise.

Ivan's eyes narrowed, inserting a second finger as he began to stretch the other, "Really? Because it looks like you might want to."

The shorter man shook his head, wincing as a third finger went in, "I told you, you're threats are nothing." He reached up, tapping the belt of Ivan's jeans, indicating that those had to come off, though he himself couldn't make his body bend enough to reach them fully at the moment.

The Russian rolled his eyes, and took off his pants without a second thought, his other hand continuing it's motions inside of Gilbert. "You're an idiot, you know that?" he said coldly.

Gilbert smiled, "So I've been told." He whimpered slightly at the suddenly empty feeling as Ivan pulled his fingers out, a whimper that turned into a sharp cry as the Russian didn't hesitate to push all the way inside.

The taller of the pair stayed where he was, breathing hard, feeling slightly satisfied that he'd made Gilbert cry out at last. He chewed at his lip, feeling the overwhelming tightness around him as he looked down into crimson eyes, "Are you going to give up now?" he asked.

Gilbert simply smiled again, his arms looping around Ivan's shoulders. Ivan shuddered at the feeling of warm breath near his ear as he heard the albino whisper something.

"_Tol'ko dlya tebya."_

Ivan blinked and pulled back slightly to stare at him, lavender eyes wavering in shock, "I . . . Why are you doing this? I'm being so harsh, you should be freaked out!"

The albino leaned up to kiss him lightly, "I told you, I like you. Is that such a bad thing? The only thing I ask in return is for you to like me back. I won't . . . I won't grow tired of you, like Yao did . . ."

Ivan shook his head, pressing his face against Gilbert's shoulder with a repressed sob. "Y-you're so stupid . . ." He whispered, "So stupid . . ."

Gilbert smiled, kissing the trail of tears on the other's cheek, "I know." He lay his head back down on the pillow, "Now, are you going to just sit there forever? Because it's rather uncomfortable."

A small smile passed across the Russian's face, "Oh, you want me to move, da?"

"Yes," Gilbert grumbled.

Ivan pulled back slightly, pressing in with the same, nonexistent force, "Like that?"

"No," Gilbert hissed in frustration, beginning to squirm, "harder."

The Russian laughed, but complied, thrusting inside and causing the other man to gasp. Gilbert arched up against him, fingers scarping along Ivan's back as the taller of the pair managed to hit something deep inside him. Ivan moaned and pushed in farther, loving the feeling as they rocked. He reached down, stroking Gilbert in time with his own movements.

Gilbert gasped again, biting down on Ivan's shoulder, "Together," he whispered, clenching around the other as he released, feeling the Russian's own hot seed spill into him.

Ivan lay still for a moment before pulling out, running his fingers through the stuff that had pooled between them. "Hmm . . ." He said absently, turning his head to lick his coated fingers experimentally, "Do you think you could somehow get pregnant like this?"

The albino coughed in surprise, "Huh? No way! Where the hell did that question come from!?" "So we can do it again then, no worries?" Ivan grinned, pushing Gilbert back down as he tried to sit up.

"Umm . . ."

^-^ ^-^ ^-^

"I can't believe you made me listen to that," Kiku complained as he removed Alfred's hand from his mouth, "pervert!"

The blond merely laughed, "What, I was worried about Ivan! And it sounded hot, so I got a little carried away."

Kiku rolled his eyes, "Good for you, now can we please get back to the party?"

Alfred made a pouting face, lower lip stuck out, "Aww . . . But look, there's another spare bedroom just down the hall . . ." The shorter man cast said room a glance, "What if Francis catches us . . ."

"He won't" Alfred practically sang with excitement, "I already told him Ivan and Gilbert were down here, so he said he'd keep everyone else away. We are good to go!"

"Fine," Kiku said slowly, "But none tomorrow then."

"Eh?!"

"You heard me."

One For Sorrow

Two for joy

Three for a girl

Four for a boy

Five for silver

Seven for gold

Eight for the secrets never to be told

RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE

This is more or less a bit of a continuation of Two for Joy that I meant to get out a lot earlier. But first I got slammed with the horrible realization of Seven Little Killers, and then . . . Well, if you read in my Warriors fandom, you already know that one of my avid reviewers passed away. It was really tough on me. But he would want me to keep on writing, so here I am. *smile*

Anywho . . . I've been a secret fan of The Bunny Pair since the beginning. And after awhile, I shifter to liking Russia/China because of my story Little Drop Of Healing, which had to be historically accurate. But I recently scooped up a very pretty doujinshi called Bokuno Meiha Kimino Yoru. It was really lovely, and by one of my favorite artists too. So I fell in love with Russia/Prussia all over again. My little Bunny Pair. :D It's my Second OTP after America/Japan I think. Lol. But it's sooo hard to write. My story One Last Fairytale will have some of these two in it too. *thumbs up* so look out for it, okies?

Ah yes, and the song that I listened to while writing this was Waiting For Yesterday by David Archuletta. I thought it fit Gilbert's mood perfectly.


End file.
